A lady goes into a pet store one day.
“I’m really lonely,” she says to the clerk. “I need a pet to keep me company.”
“Well,” replies the clerk, “how about this nice parrot? He’ll talk to you.”
“Hey, that’s great,” says the lady. She buys the parrot and takes him home.
The next day, the lady comes back to the store, clearly upset.
“That parrot you sold me doesn’t say a word,” she complains.
The clerk thinks for a moment and asks, “Did you buy the mirror? Parrots like to look at themselves.”
“No,” she says.
So she buys the mirror and goes home.
The next day, she’s back again. “Still nothing!”
“Did you get the ladder?” the clerk asks. “Parrots like to climb.”
She buys the ladder. Still, the next day—no talking.
Frustrated, the clerk asks, “Did you buy the little swing? Parrots love swings.”
She sighs, buys the swing, and leaves.
A few days later, the lady returns—but this time she’s smiling sadly.
“I just wanted to let you know,” she says, “the parrot died.”
“Oh no,” says the clerk. “Did he ever say anything?”
“Yes,” she replies quietly. “Just before he died, he looked at me and said…
‘Don’t they sell any food at that pet store?’”
Sometimes, the quiet ones aren’t silent—they’re just waiting for the right moment to speak.
